Kids are assholes. Especially those who grow up rich and entitled. My experience with rich entitled asshole kids can be summed up into one word: depressing.
Depression never really came into my life until I realized, at the age of 11, how little friends I had. At that time I had transferred to a new school, a private school, a place where they teach higher education than those of the icky public schools. Education was the most important pillar in my family, nothing came before education, not friends, not fun, nothing. If you didn’t get straight As and every 100 on a math test you were seen as not good enough. Never good enough.
As my anxiety at home became an ever present force, depression soon found a best friend in my anxiety and latched onto her outstretched hands. One of their first encounters was during science class. We had been divided into groups of four to sit together while we worked and read from the textbook. The girl sitting across the table from me, a girl with the blondest hair and bluest eyes I’d ever seen up till that point said out loud to me. “What’s wrong with your face? Why are your eyes like that?” I remember feeling confused. Her question made me realize for the first time in my life that I didn’t look like the majority. My eyes weren’t hooded and large and round, they were mono lids, Asian eyes. Eyes that made it difficult to put eyeshadow on like everyone else, eyes that didn’t make the same expressions as the rest of them. Looking back on that encounter, it still puzzles me why she felt necessary at that particular moment to call me out. Was she genuinely curious? Had she never seen an Asian person up close till that point? Maybe she was feeling down that day and needed to pick on someone to feel better? Whatever the reason, I will remember that moment until I’m old and grey because it was the first moment in school I truly felt like an outsider.
So here I was a young shy awkward preteen girl, who had just moved to the States, the girl with the weird accent fitting perfectly into the mold of the new kid at school. If only Mean Girls had been made a couple of years earlier I totally could have used a few tips. They say you’re the most impressionable during your preteen and teen years. My private school years would become the backdrop that would come to define the decade of my teens.